Blue Eyes
by Bleedingheart2XLoLa
Summary: A hurt young painter spends her last moment with a mysterious young man whom she deems as her dark angel. One-Shot (Barsad/OC)


_Alice: How long is forever?_

_White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second._

* * *

I was headed home from a small cafe when it happened. It had been a long and stressful morning, and I had wanted nothing more to head to my favorite café in mid town. The atmosphere was cozy, the people were always so kind, and they had the best beignets in Gotham. It was just down the street from my apartment, and I always loved going there when I had much on my mind.

My day had started like it normally did, I got up, took a shower, and then sat in front of a half finished canvas waiting for inspiration to hit. I was a painter, a really good painter that had actually managed to sell my artwork and make a living for myself. My apartment was on the nice side of town with big open windows that overlooked the city park. That's where I had my studio too. By the windows so I could look out into the park.

You would think I would paint nature, but no, I liked to paint people. I would sit on my window pane all day just to watch the park goers stroll around with their families and loved ones. I loved watching young children's bright and happy faces when their fathers and mothers would push them high on the swing. I loved watching lovers stroll over to the small pond and share a sweet kiss. But most of all, I liked watching those who went to the park alone, taking in the peace around them.

Those people always went to the park for a reason, to escape whatever it was that plagued them. Those people had secrets, secrets I loved trying to unravel in my head. There were some that would go there frequently, and every time I would see them, I would think of a new scenario that had brought them there. I loved watching them lounge on benches and close their eyes. I enjoyed seeing the lines of stress on their faces fade away as the breeze brushed softly against their faces. They were my subjects, my inspirations.

I had been watching my new muse a few weeks prior to today. Fall was here, and it had been getting cold out. Less and less people were coming to the park. But this man came every day and sat in the grass beneath a large maple tree, one leg always bent and a stubborn gaze staring at the city. It was funny the first time I saw him, he stood out in the colorful leaves he sat on. I could only describe him as dark. He had dark hair and wore dark clothing, yet his skin was a pale creamy color. It was like a dark angel thrown down into a world full of color. His gaze though, sharp and unrelenting, always unnerved, and I couldn't help but wonder what secret he was plagued with.

But today, he didn't show up. I thought it a bit unusual and I couldn't help but grumble as I watched for my dark angel, but he didn't show. I looked back at my canvas and sighed. scanning over faceless man staring in my direction and I ran a finger down the portion where his eyes should be. I considered for a moment, 'Should I just make them black, like the rest of him.' I sighed before shaking my head no and walking back into my room.

Eyes, that was what I was stressed over. I nearly scoffed at the thought of it. Here I was complaining because I couldn't see some random strangers face clearly. God I was such a creep. I ran my hand down my face and pulled my dark hair up into a messy bun before shrugging on my coat and boots. I grabbed my notebook and slowly made my way out of my apartment and locked up. My neighbor, an old man I called Mr. Arnold, was just walking to his door and turned and smiled sweetly at me.

"Hey there Miss Skye! Where you off to?" I smiled at the silly old man. He and his wife would sometimes bring me over some cookies and hot chocolate. I heard his sweet lady was feeling ill a few days prior and I made a mental note to bring her some hot soup on my way home.

"Just to the café down the street. How is Mrs. Betty?"

"Doing better, thank you for asking. You be careful girlie!" I smiled and said my goodbyes but not before he called out to hurry home to watch the game. I smiled and waved in acknowledgement. I didn't have the heart to tell him I didn't watch football.

I walked out into the sunshine a smile still on my face before turning left and walking down the sidewalk. This was a relatively safe area, so there was no fear when I made my way past a dark alley. It was probably the only sketchy part on this street. Mr. Arnold claimed bad men like the Joker used to lurk in there, but I always figured he only said that to scared me.

I made my way to the corner of my street and walked into the small building. It was mainly made up of windows which allowed a lot of natural light in. I ordered my beignets and some black coffee and took a seat at the window. Then I began to sketch. I barely noticed when the peppy waitress brought my order over, and I nearly spilt the coffee in surprise. Flushing, I asked for her to bring out some chicken soup to go and quickly turned back to my notebook.

Two dark eyes stared back at me. They were nice, but they weren't right. I put a large X through it before I started again. I'm not entirely sure how long I sat there but when I glanced up it was well passed noon. I sighed before closing the notebook and paying my waitress. I fumbled for a bit before I managed to gather my things (and Betty's soup) and walked out of the café, the TV blaring a young boy singing the national anthem.

I was making my way down the quiet and empty street and when it happened. I was nearly home too, just right across the park next to some closed stores that were next to the dark alley. I am not even entirely sure what happened. One second I was walking, and the next I was flying. The whole world span and my ears rang as the street began blowing up. I felt myself against something hard before sharp pains began tearing through my body. When gravity did finally take hold I landed with dull thud and hit my head against a blunt object. My body burned and my vision swam before I blacked out.

I'm not entirely sure how long I had been laying there. When my eyes opened up, it was dark out. I shifted my gaze around and found myself in a store. The windows were shattered and glass lay all around me, glinting and glistening with drops of red. My head was twisted slightly and was pushed against a counter that I must have landed on. I was covered in soup and blood.

I forced myself to look straight before I slowly pushed up into sitting position. I nearly gagged in pain and couldn't help but open my mouth in a silent scream. I took a breath and looked down to my abdomen, a large piece of glass had burrowed itself into my side. I took a breath again and tried to think. I'd already lost a tremendous amount of blood, and I wasn't sure If pulling out the glass would be a good idea.

I knew though, that if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to walk without it digging in deeper. I considered my options. If I didn't pull it out, I would die, and if I did, I could maybe make it to my apartment and get help. I shut my eyes before grabbing a leather purse that had fallen during the explosion. I took a deep breath before putting the strap of the bag into my mouth, grabbing the glass and carefully tried to pull it out. This time I did puke and I choked on my own throw up before finally yanking the glass out. I spat out the strap before emptying the contents of my stomach on the floor.

I sat back again and pressed onto the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. I didn't know what to do, I was a painter not a medic! I let out a sob and slowly began pulling myself up to stand. The moment I did, my head began to spin. My world was spinning all around me and I attempted to take a step before catching myself on the counter as my leg gave out on me. I growled out and forced myself forward walking toward the exit like some sort of drunkard.

When I made it to the street, I glance around and noticed it to be dead silent. My breath shook at the stillness around me. All the lights in the surrounding homes were turned off, there was wreckage everywhere. It was like a scene out of some apocalyptic movie. The only thing lit was the small street lamp at the entrance of the park. Like a moth, I was drawn to it. My mind forgot about going home, and I stumbled across the street seeking the light, my refuge.

I sat directly under it, in the grass covered in leaves. I didn't really notice that I had found myself under a towering maple tree. Its large canopy reached over the lamp post hanging shielding us from harm. I laid down in the leaves as a cold set into my bones. As I looked up at the branches I felt at ease.

* * *

A man had just walked out of the dark alley. He maneuvered himself around the wreckage and blown up cars. These things didn't faze him, and he didn't bother trying to block out the sites of this street. A street he had been on many times before. He didn't try to take in the sights that surrounded him, it wouldn't be here in a few months anyway. He stopped for a moment and readjusted the rifle strapped to his back.

Once he settled he made his way towards a small park. It was by far the only thing he liked in Gotham, and he knew that soon he would not be able to visit quite as often. He shuffled closer to the lamp and silently made his way to his tree. And then he stopped.

The man's jaw tightened as he glanced down to his favorite spot. There, under the canopy of his tree, lay a young woman. Her hair had dirt in it and half was coming out of the tie she used to keep it up. Her face was pale and had cuts all over it. A huge gash ran across the top of her forehead. Her body was in even worse shape. There were chunks of her clothes missing, most likely burned from a bomb. Glass twinkled daintily from its perch on her skin, and her side was bleeding profusely.

She wasn't dead yet, but she would be soon. For a moment he considered putting her out of her misery but a small voice stopped him.

"Hey." The man's eyebrows scrunched together as he looked and the now wide dark eyes looking at him.

"Hey" She repeated. He looked her up and down before turning his head back, considering to leave. As if she knew what he was about to do she called out again. "Please don't go." He turned back to look at her. She was trying to sit up, a hand outstretched to him as if that would stop him.

"Please stay. I don't think I have much time." This time he considered her a moment. It wasn't like she was a threat, and she looked as if she would drop dead any second. "I don't want to be alone."

That the man could understand. Nobody wanted to die alone. He slowly made his way towards the smiling woman before taking a seat next to her. He couldn't look her in the face, she was smiling at him.

"What's your name?" The man said nothing, but kept his face straight staring at the city. "My name is Skye." Still the man said nothing.

"My favorite color is blue. And I like flamingos." At this the man nearly scoffed. "I actually like most birds. When I was a kid, my parents got me a parakeet and I named him Zazu. Like from the Lion King. That's my favorite movie." She paused and he could practically feel her eyes watching his face. He shifted for a moment but said nothing.

"One day I thought Zazu needed a girlfriend, so I set him free. I don't really know if he found her or not, but I hope he did." She giggled lightly and glanced at her hands. "One time I got mad at my sister so I put blue dye in her shampoo." She laughed out loud again. "I was clever about it too. I bought the dye and mixed it in with her old shampoo. When she tried to tell my parents what I did, I switched out the bottles with new shampoo and left the packaging of the dye in her trash. She was grounded for a week because my parents couldn't believe she would try to blame me for it." She laughed loudly this time and shuffled a little closer to him.

"I always felt a little bad about that, but it was worth it. You can say that was my first work of art." She turned to look at him again. "I'm a painter," she told him. "My biggest work was a painting I made of the Joker." That got his attention. "I used to do a lot of underground painting. Really, it's a thing! All these painters would meet up secretly and show their art work. I painted the Joker. He had an interesting face, I only wish I got a better look at him. Well maybe not, cause you know." She laughed again.

"If it was underground, how did it become your biggest work?" The man nearly rolled his eyes when she beamed at him.

"Somebody leaked it. Which is a big no no, but someone did. I got a lot of heat from it and that's what kind of gave me my name. People just couldn't believe I would paint someone like him. Then one day I got an offer from a anonymous person asking if I was willing to sell it. At the time, I just wanted people to leave me alone, and I was more than happy to pass the burden on to someone else. I made a lot from that person. I never found out who it was."

She paused and looked up at the canopy in thought. "I've never had a puppy or a kitten. I had always planned to get one." She glanced at him again. "I've never had a boyfriend either. I have yet to go to Europe. And I still haven't finished watching the season finale of Friends." She sighed and looked at her hands. "I haven't done a lot of things yet." The man considered this for a moment, did he have anything he had yet to do? He never particularly liked pets. He had been with many women, but never settled down. He had gone to Europe, though he didn't go to explore. He had never even heard of Friends.

His eyebrows crunched together and he sighed. "Why are you telling me this?"

She looked at him again and shrugged. "So you know who I am. I am sharing myself with you now, because I don't have anyone else to share myself with."

"But why me? You don't even know me." His accented voice rang out and she smiled at him, shuffling just a bit closer.

"Yes I do, I've watched you every day for three weeks. You like the color black and you like sitting under this tree to look at the city. But you don't like the city. You are always glaring at it, that's why you sit in the park." He tilted his head sideways in thought. "It's not weird, I live right up there. You see?" The girl pointed straight ahead at a small apartment across the street. He gulped slightly at the sight. She was nearly home when the bombs went off.

"What's your name?" The girl scooted closer to him. She had a slight tremble in her hands and her skin was looking paler. There wasn't much time left.

"Barsad. My name is Barsad." She smiled at him

"It's nice to finally meet you Barsad." She was really close to him now. Arms touching arms. Oddly, he didn't mind. He wondered if she was in pain, maybe she was just too numb.

"It's nice to meet you too, Skye." If she could swoon, she would.

"May I ask you a question Barsad?" He nodded. "Why do you have a gun strapped to your back?"

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it quickly. What was he supposed to say? I'm a mercenary working side by side with Gotham's reckoning to purge this city of evil by blowing it up? The reason your about to die and never get to have a dog or watch Friends is because I helped blow this street up? I essentially just helped destroy one of the brightest lights in this dark city? Somehow he doubted she would understand.

"It's ok, you don't have to answer. I'll make a reason up." He glanced down to the ground as she started speaking again, her head drooping down onto his shoulder. Her body was starting to slump and he quickly put an arm around her back to support her. "You're an angel. You have a gun so you can get all the bad guys when you take me to paradise." His jaw tensed. "An angel dressed in black and combat boots." Her laugh tickled his neck.

She got quiet and sighed, now completely leaning her weight on him. Barsad allowed himself to lean his head on her own, relishing in the feel of this little light. He was no angel. He nearly laughed at the idea.

She suddenly leaned her head up and looked at him. "Barsad. Will you look at me?" Barsad swallowed. He couldn't look at her. "Please look at me." She chuckled lightly. "Am I so hideous you can't even look at me." He rolled his eyes and looked at her. Really looked at her. She was a beautiful woman, even with all those cuts on her face. He was taken aback, but she gasped.

"Blue! Your eyes are blue!" She let out a laugh and grabbed his face in her hands, hypnotized by his shockingly blue eyes. "I love blue…." She slowly let go his face and put her arms around his neck. For a moment he thought she would kiss him, and in that moment he wished she would. He could give her that, he could pretend in this moment that she want just some girl and he wasn't just some mercenary. He could pretend that he grew up normally, maybe even Gotham. That he had found someone, this little light, and actually settled down. He could pretend that right now she wasn't dying in his arms, that she healthy and was embracing him, her angel. That he could live out the rest of his life happily.

And she did kiss him, lightly, like a wind just blew across his lips. A chill ran down his spine and he for a moment it felt as if they were frozen in time. The kiss ended quickly, but it was a feeling that would haunt him. This kiss of death.

She looked at him again smiling. "Tell me a secret. A secret no one else knows about you." He thought about it for a moment.

"I don't believe in this cause." Her eyebrows crunched together in confusion, but she didn't question him.

"I swear I will take that to my grave." They both chuckled quietly.

"Are you going to tell me a secret as well?"

"I wish I had the courage to speak to you sooner. Maybe if we had had time… I don't know." She sighed and rested her head under his neck. Both of his arms went around her, careful not to touch her cut. She was running out of time. Time, if only they had more time. Then maybe…

He glanced up to her apartment. She must have neighbors, they could maybe….

He held her a little tighter. She was running out of time and so was he. Would it be cruel to prolong the inevitable? Chaos was coming. Bad people were going to be released. A lot of innocents were going to die. And the city was going to burn. Would it be cruel to save her just so she could die later? But then they could have more time…

Did she deserve to burn with the rest of this scum? Should he be the angel that let her go now, like she let her bird go? Or should he be the angel that gave her a chance to fulfill things in her life? But would she even have the time to do that? His own hourglass was running out of sand and soon they would both get the chance to be together, maybe in a heaven just like this. Would it be selfish to let her die knowing he would soon too? Would it be selfish to let her live so they could just maybe die together?

She breathed softly onto his neck and he held her tighter. "Blue. I never got to… blue eyes." Her muttering was soft and her lips brushed against his neck. Time. He reached for her legs as he looked up toward her building, a light flickering on next to her apartment.

* * *

Blue eyes  
Baby's got blue eyes  
Like a clear blue sky  
Watching over me

Blue eyes  
Ooh I love blue eyes  
When I'm by her side  
Where I long to be  
I will see

Elton John - Blue Eyes

**I hope ya'll enjoyed this one - shot. I had this idea when I woke up in the middle of the night once. I originally considered Bane instead of Barsad, but Bane's personality is way too strong to mold. Barsad was my second guess. This is what I imagine what Barsad would be like if they gave him a bigger role in the movie and he was given a chance at an intimate moment. There are a lot of things here that could have happened from the past, present and future. I obviously didn't make those things clear and I did that on purpose. I'll let you decide what happens. Please review!**

**XoXo ~ LoLa**


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